


Lather, Rinse, Repeat

by abstractconcept



Series: The Epic of Porn [6]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Age Difference, And the word "bitch" apparently, Crossgen, Dirty Talk, Filth, I don't remember half of what's in it, I mean filth except in a bath, I wrote this ages ago, M/M, Use of the word "slut", bath shenanigans, sorry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-12
Updated: 2017-06-12
Packaged: 2018-11-13 03:48:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11176371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abstractconcept/pseuds/abstractconcept
Summary: Well, there really isn't any summary needed. Harry and Snape get in a bathtub together and further sexytimes ensue, really.





	Lather, Rinse, Repeat

Harry whimpered and pulled urgently at Snape’s lips with his own. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he chanted in a low voice.

“Yes, yes, oh, but yes,” Severus replied.

“Now. _Please_ ,” Harry begged, and Snape laughed long and low, sending happy chills up Harry’s spine. 

The man crawled off the bed with feline grace, and Harry envied his ability to do everything with such haughty elegance. He turned and gave the boy a look which turned Harry’s insides to butter. He crooked a finger at the boy. “Now, Mister Potter. **Come**.”

One side of Harry’s lip managed to quirk upwards despite the horrendous sexual tension he was still hostage to. “What, here? Now?” _I could,_ he thought. _I really could. He doesn’t have to lay a finger on me. Here I am kneeling, kneeling on the bed, **his** bed, hard as a fucking stone, his sticky release dribbling down my face, looking at a long, lean, fucking gorgeous naked professor…and he doesn’t have to **move.**_ _ All he has to do is say the right thing, say it in that bloody silky, smooth, sexy voice… _

__

“ _No_ , Mister Potter,” Snape replied, black-wing brow rising as though he’d read the boy’s mind. “You are not allowed to climax just yet. Get up and follow me to the bath, if you would.”

Harry’s cock twitched at the assault of the smoothly spoken words. _Unfaaaaaair,_ he groaned in his head. But he wouldn’t say no. He _couldn’t_ say no. What if saying no stopped the game? Sighing massivley, he made to slide off the bed, but his legs crumpled beneath him, and he fell to the floor with a thud. Dazed and perplexed, he looked up at the Potions Master’s snort of laughter.

“You imbecile; you stayed in the same position so long that your legs fell asleep. Didn’t you even notice it happening?”

Harry blinked. “All of my blood was in my prick,” he replied defensively. “I didn’t have enough in my head to think clearly with, and my legs didn’t need it so badly, in any case.”

Snape left the room, as Harry stared, frustrated, after him. The man was a heartless sadist. _An incredibly hot heartless sadist,_ his body told him confidently. _One that you MUST shag, whatever the consequences._ Still stiff and sore, he began crawling on all fours after Severus.

The Potions Master returned a moment later, and was amused and not a little turned on to see Potter on all fours. “Just the position I like them in,” he remarked avariciously. 

Harry glared at him. “A little help, here? For Merlin’s sake, only an utter bastard would fuck a guy’s mouth and then make him crawl around after him.”

“And what am I, Potter?” 

Harry sighed again. “An utter bastard. I take your point.” Resigned, he continued crawling towards the man, trying to shake out a cramp in his calf as he went.

Severus watched with unconcealed pleasure, and walked round behind the lad so he could savour the view of that ripe little arse. Potter’s muscles started working more smoothly as his limbs came back to life. Just as it became apparent the boy was about to stand, Snape strode over to him. “Here, let me help,” he offered impatiently, pulling Harry up. He stared into the dazzling green depths for a moment, slowly put his fingers to Harry’s chin, tilted his head back, and kissed the youth.

Harry groaned appreciatively as Severus sucked hungrily at his lower lip. The man’s clever tongue darted out, like a hummingbird looking for nectar, and slipped briefly into the wet cavern behind the lips. It slid slowly along his upper teeth, teased and tasted the flavour of Snape’s orgasm from Harry’s rapturous tongue, thrust and tickled Harry’s palate, and generally raped the sweet, eager mouth.

Harry wrapped his arms around the man’s shoulders, and began grinding himself desperately against the virile, slim body before him. Snape slinked a hand down to grab one of Harry’s cheeks, pulling him even closer, causing the boy to gasp and try to hook one leg around the man, dying for the hardness of a leg to hump himself against.

Severus trailed another hand down Harry’s back to his butt, kneading and grasping the tight muscles. He pulled away from the heady kiss, panting. “ _Up, Harry_ ,” he ordered. Harry whimpered what might have been a protest, worried about putting so much strain on the man’s back, but Snape kissed him again, swallowing any reluctance. “I can handle you,” he assured the boy, and with that, Harry leapt, clawing and climbing, arms tight with burdened sinew, legs enthusiastically wrapping around the thin frame. One of Snape’s arms came up to support Harry’s back, the other still clutching the youth’s round, perky ass cheek. Severus’s eyes rolled back in his head for a moment. “Ah, magnificent youth,” he breathed into Harry’s soft locks.

Turning, he carried the young man into the bathroom, still obsessively petting and gripping at the lust-crazed Adonis writhing with pleasure against his body. He stopped next to the bath; a very large old-fashioned silver bin, big enough for three or more people, and magically filled with steaming water. Harry was sucking and chewing on his neck. “We’re here, Potter,” he managed. Harry didn’t noticeably respond. “Potter…” His eyes fluttered shut when Harry wiggled his tongue against the sensitive skin behind Severus’s ear. “Potter… _Potter!_ Enough, damn you. Your _bath_ awaits.”

Harry hummed in agreement, still sucking zealously, his back arching to push his cock more firmly against Severus’s stomach. “As always,” Snape remarked weakly, “You refuse to follow directions or show any respect for your superiors, and force me to take drastic measures in order to get your attention.” So saying, he pulled the boy’s limbs loose, letting him drop heavily into the water.

Harry came up gasping. “You! You bloody wanker!” He coughed a little, pushing his dripping bangs out of his eyes. He fished in the water for his glasses, and was relieved to find them wet but otherwise unharmed. He slid them back on his nose, seeing Severus before him through distortions of water droplets, but apart from that, back in focus.

Snape grinned, leaning over the tub, resting both hands on either side of the youth. “It could have been much worse, you must concede. I could have dropped you in a vat of _cold_ water.” Ducking his head, he lapped at a rivulet of bathwater running down Harry’s chin. “And _you_ were the one that specified bath sex. I was merely attempting to give you what you wanted.”

Harry’s wet lips parted and pressed frantically against Snape’s. “Get in the bath,” he demanded in a rasping voice. “Hurry up and get in the bath and fuck me, or let me fuck you.”

“I’m the one in charge, Mister Potter, and you are in no position to make demands,” Severus replied, gripping the damp chin roughly.

Harry put both hands in the man’s hair, pulling him closer, satin tongue pushing its way through thin lips to seduce Severus’s own. He let loose of the hair, running his fingers down Snape’s neck to his chest, allowing a few small drips of water to fall from his fingertips to the man’s nipples, which he tugged at gently. Severus moaned softly, and Harry knew he’d won.

“Move back, Mister Potter,” he ordered crisply, and lifted one leg over the side, then the other. Harry came face to face (or head to head, as the case may be) with the man’s thick cock once more, and found his tongue wetting his lips of its own accord. He heard Snape make a small sound somewhere above him, and looked up to see the man rolling his eyes. “Mister Potter, loathe as I am to influence you to divert your lips from my erection, I feel that I should point out the fact that if you _continue_ to suck me off whenever you get near my cock, I will have little interest in plunging it into any of your other openings, and be less than motivated to help you reach your own peak. Call me selfish, if you will, but fucking a fetching young thing’s pretty mouth holds an attraction that I find difficult to refuse.” He slipped into the water across from the youth, whose lips pursed a little, and whose head tilted slightly to the side.

“Um. What?” Harry replied. He’d found it rather difficult to follow the conversation when most of his attention was focused on the substantial organ before him, and really only came back to himself when the tempting object had been fully submerged by the bathwater.

Snape gave a grunt of laughter, staring at the wide, innocent eyes before him, eyes that seemed all the more innocent for failing to be able to follow the conversation. “Shall I put it in simpler terms? _No cocksucking,_ Harry _. No._ Sit _, stay._ Good boy.”

Harry’s nose wrinkled. “Very funny.” He splashed a bit of warm water at the man with the back of his hand. Snape leaned away from it, giving him a look of warning. “And how come you only call me Harry when talking to me like I’m a damn dog?”

“Dogs _are_ hairy,” Snape couldn’t resist pointing out, and his lips twitched at Harry’s corresponding groan. “I’ll call you whatever I like,” he added. 

Harry pouted slightly, which only raised the man’s blood temperature further. “Then maybe I’ll not let you fuck my mouth in the future,” he threatened.

Snape’s lip curled contemptuously. “I highly doubt that,” he returned. “You love having your mouth fucked as much as I do fucking it, and you know as well as I that it was _designed_ to be fucked. Giving it up now would be as difficult as it would be for an addict to give up heroine. You _need_ it,” he said, eyes smouldering. “You want it, you need it, and you were made for it. No, you’ll be on your knees before I’ve finished giving the order, and you’ll be completely unable to decline, no matter what the circumstance. If I called on you in class and bid you to suck my cock, you’d have my robes undone and your hot mouth attached to my manhood before your classmates could do more than gasp.”

Harry did gasp at this, his eyes falling shut and his head falling back against the rim of the bath for support. He reached for his prick, but Snape’s hand pushed him away. He frowned at the man, but then felt the gentle prodding of the man’s foot against him, rubbing his length, and he sighed with bliss.

Snape shuddered with gratification. How easy it was to make the young man melt, how simple to bring him to rigid attention. How very entertaining it was, to do this by merely sitting back and speaking, watching the words wash over Harry, bending him to Snape’s will. And how very, _very_ satisfying it was to produce such an excruciating sexual tension in the boy. _Lovely, lovely turnabout_. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” he went on, his rapt attention on Harry’s eminently readable features. He loved the way the dark brows drew together in a mixture of desire and desperation. “You’d like the class to watch you suck my prick. You’d love them to see you doing something you were _truly_ good at; something _useful_ and _valuable_ , unlike your pointless Quidditch.” Harry moaned slightly, his fingers coming up to tease his own nipples to hardness. Snape watched with the concentration of a hawk about to dive in for the kill. “In fact, I love your mouth so much that I think I _shall_ demand it, just to see you struggle with yourself. Just to watch you surrender. Every time I feel the fancy take me—and rest assured that it will be often—I’m going to command you open your mouth and take me. Every time I enter the room, you had best be prepared to hit your knees, because that’s what will be expected of you. Every time I lay eyes on you, you’d better be ready to put that aggravating mouth to good use.”

Harry’s head came up, his eyes on fire. “ _Fuck,_ ” he whispered, and wiped self-consciously at the drool that accompanied the word.

Severus saw this, and gave a long, genuine laugh. “I _don’t_ think you’ll manage to deny me,” he pointed out, “When the very _thought_ of it makes you salivate.”

“Fucking prat,” Harry growled, and launched himself at the man. To his surprise, Snape did not get annoyed at this or even try to avoid the needy body, the fingernails that dug fiercely into his back, or the mouth that furiously bit any part of Snape that it could find. On the other hand, maybe that wasn’t so much of a surprise. Serving Voldemort, Snape probably got used to pain.

The man was still chuckling, until Harry pulled back and nipped sharply at the tip of his nose. Severus gave an undignified cry, and scowled at Harry’s smug grin. The youth felt a hand on the top of his head, and only had time to squeak before he was shoved under the bathwater. He came up spluttering, and Severus gave him just enough time to catch his breath before dunking him again.

“Now,” he began when Harry surfaced a second time, red faced and peeved. “I don’t usually resort to childish retaliations, but you are proving a difficult pet to train. You _do not_ assault my nose. Is that understood, Mister Potter?”

Still coughing a little, Harry snarled, “Big—fucking—greasy— _git_!” 

Snape merely leaned back, pulling Harry against him. With a lopsided grin he said, “I thought we were here so you could do something regarding the ‘grease.’ I must warn you that it will come right back. One cannot spend one’s days over a steaming cauldron and _not_ have greasy hair.”

Harry gave the man another disgruntled look, his shoulders tense.

Severus turned the boy around so he was sitting on Snape’s lap, and began licking the nape of Harry’s neck. Harry shivered, but remained stubbornly silent. _In the future, it would be well to remember how mule-headed he is_ , Snape reminded himself. He brought his hands to Harry’s shoulders, using deft fingers to massage the tenseness away. He would _not_ apologize to the youth. In the first place, Severus Snape did not apologize. In the second place, who had bitten whom? He wound an arm around the young man’s chest, pulling him against his own. He studied the profile for a long moment. “Pouting will hardly make me regret my actions,” he pointed out with quiet glee. “Considering what an erotic sight it is, when your plump lower lip is protruded that way.”

Harry immediately sucked the lip back in, but his look of irritation was spoilt by the smile that shadowed the corners of his mouth. 

“If you’re going to be an immature, irksome brat,” Snape warned, “I shall tickle you as you deserve.”

Harry gave him a look of alarm. “Don’t you dare.”

Severus smiled, running his fingertips up and down the youth’s ribcage. “You’re far too thin,” he remarked. “I’m going to give you a draught that helps you build a little muscle.”

“Going to fatten me up to eat me, are you?” Harry murmured.

“Something like that,” Snape agreed.

Harry felt the man’s lips against his neck, and let his head drop against Severus’s other shoulder. “That feels good,” he mumbled, his eyes squeezed tight with happiness.

“Yes?” Snape snaked one hand out of the bath to grab the soap. Working it into a quick lather, he dropped it aside and ran slippery hands up the youth’s torso. Harry gasped at this, and the man gave a hum of encouragement. “Yes…that’s good. So good…” he mouthed into the boy’s ear, feeling that delightful form squirm and undulate against him. He spent some time pinching and caressing the hard pink nipples, and Harry made a mewling sound of pleasure. “You like that, don’t you? My sweet little slut…I’m going to give you _exactly_ what you need,” he hissed, and Harry bit his lip, his entire body responding to the susurration against his ear.

“Right. That’s it. My turn,” Harry announced in a throaty voice, wriggling loose of his lover’s arms, and snatched at a bottle of shampoo beside the tub, picking up Snape’s wand with the other hand. “Okay. Now.” He scowled at the bottle, trying to concentrate as the man’s slick palms felt up his now-exposed backside. “ _Fotris…abeo…tersium_ ,” he said, and watched the mixture bubble and change colour. “There. It should be stronger now,” he declared. “Hermione said that was probably your problem; that you use too weak a shampoo or something with too much of a conditioner, and that it builds up on your hair—”

“You _discussed_ my personal hygiene habits with Miss _Granger?_ ” Snape asked with great offence. 

“Sweetie, _everyone_ discusses your personal hygiene, or lack thereof. They all say you don’t wash your hair enough,” Harry replied, and felt a large hand cuff his ear. “Ouch! I’m just trying to help,” he protested. 

“Ungrateful wretch,” Severus growled, giving the boy’s thigh a rough pinch. “You have no respect for your elders.”

“Ow! Stop that,” Harry snapped. “ _ Lavo! _ ” he sang out brandishing Severus’s wand, and soapy water bubbled up from the man’s hair.

He gave Harry an irritated look. “That’s enough messing about, Mister Potter. Put my wand back, before you manage to break it.”

“You love it when I play with your wand,” Harry smirked, but did as he was told, then poured a bit of shampoo into his cupped palm. “Now, I promise this won’t hurt a bit. Just lean forward a little so I can reach.”

Looking cross, Severus leaned over so Harry could reach his head. Muttering balefully about impertinence and disrespect, he finally fell silent as the youthful fingers massaged his scalp. After getting a thorough rinse, he finally looked up to admit, “Well, that was not as unbearable as I’d expected. Still, as far as sexual kinks go, it lacked a certain something.”

Harry laughed, picking up the soap and running the bar across the man’s chest. “I could soap you up,” he suggested. Severus didn’t object, so Harry used the opportunity to work slippery fingers over the trim figure, squeezing the hard shoulders, stroking the long neck. He began working his way down, his breaths becoming more ragged as his hands left a foamy path across slim pectorals and splayed across the man’s stomach.

Severus was watching him narrowly, hands clenched on the sides of the tub. “Perhaps you would permit me to return the favour,” he offered softly, and began to lather the nubile body in return. After every inch of the boy above the waterline was thick with suds and shifting eagerly against Severus’s hands, the man gave a shark-like grin. “Stand up, Mister Potter.”

Harry’s eyes, half-shut again, popped open. “Er. Really?”

“You do wish me to continue, don’t you?”

Harry stood nervously, feeling somehow much more exposed than he had earlier. His thighs trembled as Snape ran a long, slick finger over them. The man pushed his legs apart a bit, settling between them and running his palms all the way up Harry’s inner thighs, causing the youth to shudder and moan. Looking down, he could see his flushed pick bobbing slightly, and the man’s intense gaze on it. The hands moved to Harry’s arse, slipping and fondling, and he leaned forward a bit to rest his hands on the man’s shoulders, his tongue hanging out of his mouth just a little. 

Severus used the position to kiss him again, and then again, sucking gently on the tip of the pink tongue. Harry whimpered and pulled back, his eyes begging for more. Severus smiled, pushing Harry’s hands away, and rose to his feet. He turned Harry around and began grinding himself into the soapy crack of the boy’s arse, and Harry moaned with delight. “And that’s just a taste of what you’re going to get,” Severus promised in a whisper. His hands were all over the boy, and Harry reached around to hold Severus’s hips, fingers gripping harshly to pull the man closer. 

“More,” he pleaded desperately.

“More?” Snape responded, and thrust against the youth. Harry lost his balance at that, and ended up leaning far over, having to grab the towel rack on the wall. “Too much, Mister Potter?” 

“N—no. Please. More.” 

Grinding himself against the sweet ass, Severus began using one lathered hand to play with Harry’s balls. The other he slid up and down the boy’s prick, causing Harry to shake with ecstasy. He began working slippery fingers around the hardness, and Harry gasped. Severus began pumping the youth, lather bubbling up furiously over the shining red cock. 

“Remember,” Severus told his plaything in a low voice, “You’re not allowed to come until I—”

With a strangled moan, Harry shot seeds of sperm onto the wall, across the tiles of the floor, and over the man’s fist. “C—couldn’t help. It. S—s—sorry,” he gasped. 

“You little bitch,” Severus growled. “You’ve disobeyed me yet again.” Fisting his hand in the young man’s hair, he shoved his head down so that it was level with one splash of semen. “I think you need to learn to do as you’re told. Lick it up. Now.”

Harry shivered, and he felt the prick against his backside twitch at his movement. Slowly, he lapped his ejection from the wall. 

“That’s right. That’s a good boy,” Snape panted in his ear, eyes following every catlike movement of Harry’s tongue, as the boy struggled to clean up every drop of his mess. “I knew you were trainable,” the man told him in a voice thick with desire. “The perfect little slut. Now, the floor. Every drop, my delicious green eyed whore.” Harry clambered out of the bath, still pouring soapy water from his body, bubbles running down his back, his groin, his calves. He knelt, licking and slurping his come from the shiny, wet tiles. Snape followed closely, rubbing one hand on Harry’s back. “Fuck. I always knew you that all you needed was a little discipline. Such an improvement already.” He stared at the wiry physique, perfect and succulent, water still gleaming on the swell of every muscle, beautiful beads forming on the boy’s skin. A restless hand threaded into the young man’s hair, petting and pushing. “Don’t you miss a single drop, you little whore,” he whispered, and Harry gave a low wail of enjoyment. 

When the tiles were spotless, Snape pulled harshly up on the boy’s hair. “I think it’s time we moved this to the bedroom,” he remarked. 

“I agree,” Harry seconded, gazing up at the man with eyes as wide as he could get them.

“Stop that,” the Potions Master insisted, sounding annoyed. He waved his wand and the bathwater vanished.

“Stop what?” Harry rejoined innocently.

“Stop looking up at me like a naïve, helpless ingénue, even after I’ve fucked your mouth wanked you off, and forced you to feed upon your own ejaculation. It’s irritating.” He crossed his arms as Harry chuckled. “And pick up that bottle; it’s leaking shampoo all over the place.”

Harry sighed, grabbing the bottle off the floor, along with the soap, and making to put them away. Leave it to Snape to force him to do any manual labor.

Snape headed back for the bedroom, but stopped when he heard a _thunk_ behind him. “What was that, Mister Potter?” he inquired with an arched brow.

Harry was quiet a moment. “I dropped the soap,” he responded in a small voice.

Severus couldn’t keep from turning to leer at the boy. “Oh, really?”


End file.
